Apologize
by Empress Empoleon
Summary: "Hermione, I'm sorry." / Ron finally swallows his pride and apologizes.


_"We didn't have to fall in love, we could've climbed down slowly." - Upset Boulevard, Spector._

* * *

The constant taps on the door are becoming increasingly infuriating.

_Tap._

Silence.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Silence.

_Tap...Tap._

Silence, and for a pregnant pause she dares to believe that he is gone before-

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK-_

She sighs, planting her face in the pillow, trying to drown out the hideous noises. Couldn't he just _leave_ her _alone_?

"Hermione, come on, this is ridiculous," a muffled voice that she knows all to well says from the other side. "Just open the door yourself, since you somehow Charmed me out of there and I don't know how to counter that."

She almost smiles, before she remembers she is horrifyingly angry at him.

Not in the mood to argue, she lithely slips off the bed, her feet falling into her comfy slippers, before shuffling to the door.

She wipes her eyes with her sleeve quickly and opens the door.

He shouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"What?" she harshly chokes, looking at his collarbone (Why did he have to be so damn _tall_?) and refusing to look into his eyes.

"Come on," he murmurs, trying to wrap his arms around her. She flinches away, and a jolt of pain registers across his face.

"Hermione, I'm-"

She glances up sharply, the air drawing around her like a blanket of knives that pierce his heart; it's really not the right moment but he can't help but think of how beautiful she is, even while looking like she might actually kill him. "Save it for someone who will care."

"-sorry."

* * *

It had started out as one of their usual, petty arguments, but then it escalated far too fast.

He had come back from Auror training, tired. She was waiting for him, not in the best of moods, but still one good enough to see that what they both needed was a night out. So she told him that they should eat dinner at a restaurant tonight.

Ron was too tired and too irritated to really care, or go anywhere for that matter. He refused, and when she asked why, he snapped, shouting about how she was _so insensitive_ and _didn't care about his well-being_ and _was selfish_ and _didn't understand what he was going through_.

Hermione isn't one to just take a beating sitting down. She fights back, yelling just as loudly how _he was the insensitive one, and always has been_ and _how she cared much more than he did_ and _how she did so much for him and he never returned it_.

And then she says, "You're still on the war, aren't you? It's over, Ronald! Accept it! Fred is never going to come back, and neither will Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, or Tonks. Accept it! It's over! We're done! Cheer up, and live your life!"

The world goes white for a moment. The pent up rage inside him explodes in a way it never has before; everywhere, quiet and deafening all at once, covering his entire world with a sickening feeling of _how could she say that_ and _she could never understand_ and _how could I ever love someone like her_.

"You could never understand," he mumbles. "You could _never_ understand! You didn't have your brother die! You weren't the least useful out of your friends! You were always the lucky one-"

"You think I'm _lucky_?!" she screams. "You think having to erase yourself from your parents is _easy_? You think that having almost everyone who ever supported me die was _lucky_? You think having the boy you loved for three years leave you all alone didn't affect me at _all_?"

That was always a sore spot between them. Ron, leaving her for possibly forever on a perilous journey to their possible deaths.

It was just another bump on the road of their relationship, another bridge to cross; they had left this behind...hadn't they?

"I thought you were over that," he says, his voice shaking slightly. He didn't like to remember that night, that cold night when he stomped off in the woods all alone with that weighted feeling in his chest like he was doing something wrong.

He didn't like to remember the horrified look on her face and her pleading screams for him, echoing through the empty frigid air.

"I am," she quickly amends, noticing his expression. This whole thing was getting out of hand now.

"No, you're not," he interjects sharply, looking up from the floor to her.

"I am."

"You're not."

"I am, Ronald."

"You're not, because if you were you wouldn't have brought it up and you wouldn't have been so upset-"

"_Ronald!" _she shrieks. His mouth hangs open, the words lost as he stares at the girl in front of him who is starting to remind him of a madman.

"Listen to me, Ronald," she says, placing both hands on his shoulders so he is forced to stare into her brown irises. "I am over that. I am over that, and the entire war. I don't need to remember that night, because you're with me right now and you love me. I don't need to remember Fred, or Sirius, Dumbledore, or Remus, or Tonks, because they're still alive...in here."

A trembling, dainty finger reaches out and pokes him in the chest, right above his heart.

And then her hand is slapped away, and she gazes up at him in hurt shock.

"They're _dead, _Hermione," he mutters. "You're being stupid. They don't _live on _and all that other crap. They're _gone. __Forever. _And there is no way to get around that fact."

Hermione doesn't even have the strength to fight anymore, tears tumbling across her cheeks.

"So stop talking. It's only hurting me more."

The closing of a door echoes through the house, and Hermione is frozen in her spot, the dying embers of the fire sounding like finality.

* * *

Hermione can't help it. She looks up at him sharply, wondering if she heard right.

This had to be a jest. Did he just say he was _sorry_? Did Ronald Weasley, possibly the most insensitive and stubborn brat _ever_, just _apologize_? To _her_?

Taking her expression the wrong way, Ron's hopeful eyes drop. He must have hurt her a lot more than he thought he did-

A pair of arms wraps around his torso.

"Silly Ron," a voice mumbles into his chest. "It's not like I was _upset_, or anything."

His shirt feels a little damp, but he doesn't mind. He brings her a little closer, and kisses her hair softly.

* * *

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Apologize. You _never _apologize."

"Oh, that. Well, a few someones told me that it's not good to leave a fight unresolved, and that sometimes I have to take the first step and say sorry."

"And who told you that?"

"The people in my heart."

Hermione's eyes melt for a moment. She is touched that he took her words to heart.

"I love you, Hermione, and I didn't need my heart to tell me that. I know that I hurt you, and you might not love me as much anymore but you should know that I always have and always-"

"Ron," she gently interrupts. "It doesn't matter how many times we fight, or how bad the fight is. I will _always _love you, Ron."

They smile at each other, and for a moment, everything is perfect in the world.

"Now if only you would be like this all the time..."

"Hermione!"

* * *

A/N: I like this...for the most part.

_Done for:_

_Quidditch Round 12 (Prompts: __"We didn't have to fall in love, we could've climbed down slowly." - Upset Boulevard, Spector; jest; madman)_


End file.
